Spoiled
by Bad Girl McGuire
Summary: It was three in the morning, and everybody else in the house had long been asleep.  Gordo and Miranda were in her room, behind the closed door.  What happened next?  Read and find out!  My first fanfic, MG complete, hope you enjoy it!
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: So I've been reading Lizzie McGuire fanfict for a little while now, and after leaving some comments here and there, I decided to try my hand at writing it. This is loosely based on something from my past, so please…no flames! But I am totally open to con-crit, in fact I'd really appreciate it! So…if you like the story, please let me know. Otherwise, read silently to yourself, like in the library. Thanx!_**

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It was three in the morning, and everybody else in the house had long been asleep. Gordo and Miranda were in her room, behind the closed door, sitting on the floor next to the bed, quietly listening to music. The only light in the room came from a novelty lamp atop the nearby bookshelf, its 25-watt bulb shining down on Miranda as she diligently hemmed a skirt she had bought that afternoon at the mall.

"So, did you hear from Lizzie today?" Miranda asked suddenly, turning the skirt.

Lizzie was one of their roommates in this boarding house within walking distance of the university they all attended. The three friends had decided to stick together after high school, and never regretted the decision. Adjusting to college life was a challenge, but having each other made their new life bearable, even enjoyable.

Gordo at that moment was lying on his back beside her, a bright green pillow under his head, his legs bent on top of the bed. "No, actually I haven't heard from her," he said, casually.

Miranda raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Do you think everything's all right?"

Gordo and Lizzie had been a hot item ever since 11th grade. Hardly a day went by that they weren't right on top of each. Miranda, however, had noticed some cooling down over the last several months. Both Lizzie and Gordo had secretly confided to her that they were currently experimenting with a temporary separation, a time to "think things over." Thus, Lizzie had decided to spend the summer term visiting her family in Hillridge, leaving Miranda and Gordo to take Art History and Political Science, respectively, during the day, and spend so many of their evenings together, renewing their friendship, as they never could have with Lizzie right there.

Now, Gordo scoffed at Miranda's suggestion that there could be something wrong. "Not at all," he said. "She's probably just busy. You know Ethan Craft is still in town. She's probably out with him."

Miranda gasped and put down her sewing needle long enough to smack Gordo on the shoulder.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, turning on his stomach and hugging the pillow to his chest.

"How dare you say something like that about Lizzie!" Miranda defended her friend. "She would never cheat on you. I hope you know that."

"Yeah, I do," Gordo admitted. "It's just… you know, Ethan Craft, she always had a thing for him, and I hear he's doing landscaping now, and he's all fit and buff and his hair has gotten really blonde, and long. He wears it back in a ponytail. I understand he's a quite a hunk."

Miranda smiled mischievously. She had been home last Christmas and seen Ethan, and yes, he was a hunk. "But that doesn't mean Lizzie would cheat on you with Ethan," Miranda said. "I hope you know she's totally devoted to you, Gordo."

"Yeah, I guess," Gordo agreed, but his voice lacked the conviction it may have once held.

They sat quietly for a few moments, listening to the music. It was jazz guitar, Gordo's choice, and very soothing. In a few moments, Gordo sat up, still hugging the pillow and looked directly at Miranda and said, "But _you _could go out with Ethan."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I thought this story was a little too long for one chapter, so I've divided it into multiple chapters for your reading pleasure. **

Now it was Miranda's turn to scoff. "As if!"

"No, you could," Gordo insisted. "Right before graduation last year, I heard Ethan say you were hot. I think he likes you."

"Ethan likes anything with boobs," Miranda stated flatly.

"Well then…case closed!" Gordo grinned.

She smacked him again, and he shielded himself against further attacks, laughing.

In a few moments, they calmed down, and Gordo very intently watched Miranda's fingers pushing the needle and thread back and forth, back and forth. She looked at him, but didn't say anything. The CD, on automatic replay, started from the beginning.

"You know," Gordo said suddenly, and quietly once again, "in all seriousness, Miranda, you could go out with Ethan if you wanted to. You could go out with any guy you wanted to. Lots of guys are interested in you. I'm sure you know that."

She shrugged. "Well, I don't know if it's _lots_ of guys. There have been a few that have asked."

"But yet you don't go out with them."

"Who? Oh, you mean Matt? And Jeffrey Parker's friend…what was his name? Randall? They're so…so…pedestrian."

"What?" Gordo laughed.

"Pedestrian. Ordinary. The kind of guys I might go out with a few times, then they'd want to sleep with me, and when I wouldn't—and you know I wouldn't—they would just drop me and move on. Sorry, not interested."

Gordo nodded. He knew what she was talking about. They had discussed this many times. Miranda had this ideal, this fairy tale conviction that "The Right Guy" was going to come along someday, and she would know him when she saw him, but until she did, she was not wasting her time on poor imitations.

As he sat now, watching her, he contemplated for a moment how lucky he was to have Lizzie. But only for a moment. Sure, it was nice to always have a date to the dance, a lover to cuddle up with at night and someone who would so willingly share their KitKat bar with you, but lately he and Lizzie hadn't been as tight as they once were. College was changing them. He felt like he was growing, and Lizzie…wasn't. He felt he might be outgrowing Lizzie.

It was sad, and he hated to think it, but there it was. He felt pretty sure that when she got back for the Fall term, things would be different between them. And though he hated to admit it, the idea of Lizzie sneaking in a date with the hunky Ethan Craft was not as preposterous to him as it apparently was to Miranda.

But then Miranda had become quite the idealist, hadn't she? And smart, much smarter than she had ever been in high school, and certainly much smarter than Lizzie, and Gordo so admired that. He was proud of her for standing up for her ideals. She had even joined him on the Freshman Debate Team last year, and held her own very nicely.

Gordo shifted on his side, leaning on his left elbow, and found himself gazing at Miranda, who was too busy with her sewing to notice him. He got to stare at her for quite a while then, until suddenly she lifted her eyes and frowned at him.

"What?" she asked suspiciously. She had found Gordo staring at her like this on several occasions recently, and it made her feel peculiar, kind of tingly, reminding her of something she was trying so desperately to forget.

Now he sat up next to her, hugging his knees to his chest. Embarrassed at having been caught, he suddenly switched the topic. "So, how's that going?" he asked, nodding at her sewing project.

"I'm almost done," Miranda answered, smoothing out the skirt.

Gordo stretched both his legs out in front of him. "What is it for?" he asked.

She laughed a little, giving him a sideways glance. "It's a skirt, silly. It's to wear."

"I know that," he said, bouncing his knees. "I mean why are you in such a rush to get it done? You're not planning to wear it tomorrow, are you?"

"To the football practice? No way. Shorts and sneakers, all the way. But I might wear it to class on Monday."

"You know, it's kind of funny," Gordo commented. "You going off to watch a football practice with all your girlfriends, and me staying home to write to write my screenplay, which is a romantic comedy, more or less a chick-flick."

"You're always welcome to come with us," Miranda offered.

Gordo turned again. "No thanks. Not my thing."

"Oh, come on! You would enjoy yourself. Besides, Chelsie will be there…" she teased.

"No, really," Gordo insisted. "That's quite alright. You know I enjoy most of your friends, Miranda, but that Chelsie…"

"She does come on a little strong, doesn't she?" Miranda agreed, tying off the end of her thread.

"Zero points for subtlety," Gordo said.

"She can't help it if she likes you," Miranda said airily. "After all, you are adorable. There! All done!"

Gordo watched her carefully as she returned all the pins to the pin cushion, put the pin cushion on the shelf, then threw the skirt on to the chair across the room. She looked at Gordo who was now sitting up cross-legged at an angle from her, but closer than he had been all night.

"Do you want to change the music?" she asked.

"No," he said quietly. "It's good. But I want to know why you said that."

"Why I said what?"

"That I'm adorable. Do you really think that?"

Miranda sighed. "Gordo. You know that you are."

"So I've heard," he said, uncrossing his legs and leaning against the bed, still closer. "Mostly from Lizzie, of course. But I think what I'm asking you is…do _you_ think so too?"


	3. Chapter 3

Miranda looked at Gordo for a moment, then down at his feet, which he was tapping restlessly. "Gordo," she said. "You're so fidgety tonight! What's going on?"

"I feel…" he began. "I think I'm feeling…" But he couldn't find the words to finish the sentence. He shifted again and said, "You haven't answered my question."

She shifted too, wrapping her arms tightly around her drawn-up knees. She glanced at him only a moment, then looked straight ahead. For a minute they were both silent, soft jazz guitar playing in the background. In that minute, they both felt the mood change. Finally, Miranda said, "Why do you want to know?" Still, she did not look at him, and her voice sounded a little shaky.

"Because I feel….I'm feeling like…There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time…"

"Gordo," she said instantly, "I think it's better if you don't."

"But you don't know what I'm going to say."

"But I think whatever you're going to say, it's something I don't need to hear," she answered warily.

"But I think I have to," he said. "I think I'll go crazy if I keep trying to pretend that nothing's happening. You know what I'm talking about, Miranda. I know that you know."

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "It's so late," she said. "And it would be way too easy to say things now that in the morning we might regret."

"But why would we have to regret them?" Gordo wondered, unconsciously inching closer. "Why couldn't it be a good thing? Why couldn't we...? Randa…? Oh, Randa…"

She had her head down, her hands over her face. Was she crying? Gordo put his hand on her shoulder.

"No, don't!" she said through her hands.

Gordo waited a moment. What was going on? Why was she acting this way? She sat with her hands over her face, her shoulders heaving with big breaths, but not tears, and Gordo felt compelled to reach out once again…

She threw off his hand and suddenly lost all self-control. "Stop it, Gordo! Stop! I'm trying to be good, I'm trying so hard to be good! And the only way I can do that is by pretending that I don't feel the way I really feel. Sometimes I even have myself convinced that it's not happening. But other times, I'll look at you, just _look_ at you, especially if you don't know I'm watching, and if Lizzie is nowhere around, and I feel so…filled up…so happy…and yet, it hurts."

Now her shoulders shook with sobs. "It hurts, Gordo. Sometimes it's physically painful, just to look at you, because…because…I want…"

Miranda had no more words; her tears had taken over. Gordo came closer to touch her, to comfort her, and this time she did not throw him off. His own heart flying with the confirmation that she felt exactly the way he did, yet at the same time he knew this revelation would make everything so much more difficult for both of them.

"What do you want?" he asked, leaning his head against hers, touching her hair with his hands. "Ran…oh, Ran…"

Hearing him say her name, his own intimately shortened version of her name, she burst into a fresh batch of tears, now weeping buckets.

"Oh, Ran…" he said desperately. Gently he reached up to take her hands from her face. She turned away even more, ashamed of her tears and her lack of self-control, but even more so of what might happen if she let him get anywhere near her face, her lips.

Now his arms were around her, his face buried in her neck, sniffing her hair. He squeezed her and she felt his lips gently kissing her neck between whispered pleas of "Please…please don't cry…"

She pulled herself together enough to say, "Gordo, I think you should leave."

He squeezed her tighter, almost crying now himself, and whispered, "You want me to leave?"

"I didn't say that. I don't want you to leave. I said you should."

"You don't _want_ me to leave?"

"Gordo, please…"

"Miranda…" He turned her face towards his, much too easily, and put his mouth directly on hers. She melted under his kiss, turning her entire body towards him as their tongues pressed against each other.

"Oh, Gordo," she said when they came up for air. "This is exactly what I was afraid of."

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Ran." Then he kissed her again. And again. And again. Each time they sunk a little lower on the floor, each time his arms were less around her back, more on her hips…her sides…her breasts…

Miranda gasped as fresh shots of passion pulsated through her body. Yet even as they did, she somehow managed to breath, "Gordo, this can't happen."

He stopped, his heart pounding in rhythm with every other throbbing part of his body and somehow managed to say, "You're right."

With a tremendously difficult effort of self-will, Gordo lifted himself off the floor and stumbled to the door, where he stood for a moment, dizzy, his hand upon the doorknob. Even his hand was throbbing as it grasped the knob. As he recalled what only a minute ago his hand had been grasping and squeezing, he knew there was as much chance that he would lock the door and turn back to Miranda as there was that he would open it, go to his room, and relieve this unbearably sweet discomfort with wishful images of Miranda, as he had many times these past few weeks.

He stood with his head against the closed door, his hand strangling the doorknob as for many minutes he was paralyzed with the inability to make a decision. All he had to do was turn the knob and leave this room. Something he had done many times before, something so simple. And yet, he could not bring himself to do it.

He heard Miranda get up off the floor and sit down on her badly creaking bed. What was she thinking? What might she say? He was too scared to turn around and look at her.

He heard the bed creak again, then he heard her say, simply, "Gordo, I'm sorry."

He let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry too, Ran."

"No, you don't understand," she said. "I'm not sorry this is happening. I'm sorry…I asked you to leave."

He squeezed the doorknob tighter still. "Then you do want me to stay?"


	4. Chapter 4

Miranda made a noise that was one-half crying and one-half something that sounded like "Yes," if any further speech had been possible. More than this utterance, Gordo had his answer when she turned out the light. She wanted him to stay.

Now it was his turn. In this suddenly darkened room he could still turn the knob and walk out the door. He could still do that…until he heard the bed creak one more time and knew his beautiful Miranda was now lying down, waiting for him to come to her. Now turning the knob and leaving the room was not an option. His fate was sealed. He locked the door, turned around and floated through the darkened room till he was sitting down beside her on the bed.

They locked hands over her stomach. He watched her breasts rapidly rising and falling under her tee shirt. He wanted her breasts, he wanted her lips, he wanted every part of her.

And she wanted him too, because she took her hands away and grabbed the bottom of her tee shirt, pulling it up. Gordo helped get it over her head. It landed somewhere on the floor, no longer a consideration, as he could not help but stare at her perfect breasts in her lacy white bra, glowing in the moonlight. Now she was breathing so heavily that each time she inhaled it seemed the smooth skin of her breasts was pushing itself out of the lacy bra, which could no longer contain her. Slowly she reached up to her bra strap, slipping it off her shoulder…

Gordo put out a hand to stop her, knowing that if she exposed her breasts to him now, he would totally lose it, and it would all be over before it even had a chance to start. Instead, he lay down beside her, holding her hands, gazing into her eyes.

"Slowly…" he whispered.

She nodded, and then they came together for a kiss, softly at first, then longer and stronger. They faced each other, touched each other, undressed each other, piece by piece. Gordo caressed her breasts first as they came free of the bra, and after that moved up her neck and shoulders with little kisses all over until finally he was kissing her breasts, sucking her nipples. This drove her wild, with moaning noises he had never before heard her make. This was all too unbearably pleasurable, and he was only now beginning to touch the waistband of her blue jeans, even as she was doing to him.

They teased each other a little while, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping each other and then somehow suddenly they were both completely naked and Gordo knew he could not continue this slow torture for too much longer. He got on top, he spread her legs.

Only that one word "Slowly" had passed between them since he'd come to her bed, and even now there were no words. He held himself over her, gazing into her eyes as he lowered his body into hers, watching her face go from nervous anticipation to pleasurable surprise, and finally to something he had never seen before, not even from Lizzie. He could never find words to describe this expression as she closed her eyes and threw back her head, moaning lightly in rhythm with his thrusts. She was somewhere else, somewhere she had never dreamed. She pulled him closer, if that was possible, wanting more than anything to take him there with her.

What she didn't know was that he was way ahead of her, pacing himself to make the pleasure last as long as possible, but much more quickly than he would have liked, losing the battle with a tremendous shiver and moaning throughout his entire body.

He could barely keep himself from collapsing on top of her, but even at a moment like this, his thoughts were not about himself. When his brain cleared enough to once again allow conscious thought, his only thought was for Miranda. He had been satisfied in full, but she had not. He fell back bedside her, but only for a moment to catch his breath.

She got up on her elbow. "Gordo—"

"No," he said. "You're not allowed to talk. Not yet. You're not done yet. Lay down, I have something more for you."

"Something more…?"

He kissed her lips to quiet her, running his hand down her naked body to the place between her legs so recently occupied by his own body. Here everything was moist and open and theoretically should have been ready for his penetrating fingers, but his actions caught her by surprise and she squeezed her legs closed, exclaiming, "Gordo! What are you doing!"

She had twisted away from him in her surprise, so he pulled himself up behind her and as his fingers continued to seek their target, he whispered in her ear, "My cock is useless at the moment, but that doesn't mean I can't give you the most incredible orgasm you've ever had."

"I don't want an orgasm," she said. "I wanted you. And I got you. It's enough."

"You don't know," he said. "You have no idea what I can do for you, Ran. Let me do this for you. And for myself. Because I won't be complete until I hear you screaming in ecstasy."

"Screaming?" she questioned uncertainly, as Gordo gently pushed her back on the bed, his hand caressing and kneading.

"Keep your legs open," he said. "Just relax. Let it happen."

"Let what happen?" She had to admit that what he was doing felt good, but this was not what she had expected.

"This," he whispered. "Let this happen…" And then he went in deep with two fingers, making her—if not scream—at least gasp sharply.

He laughed a little, a strange sexy laugh she had never heard from him before. "Now you got it, Ran. Lay back…close your eyes…and let me take care of you…"

"Gordo, I don't know if—"

"Hush," he said. "No talking."

This Gordo was so much different that the slow and gentle lover who had just captured her virginity. She dare not argue with him any more as he assumed complete control of her body, working his fingers in deep rhythmic rotations inside her, pressing here and there, pulling in and out as he alternately licked and whispered in her ear.

Afterwards she could never remember exactly what he had whispered, she only knew they were words that would never be uttered during ordinary conversation. His intent was to excite, and that was accomplished, to her surprise, and almost against her will. Soon she was gasping, moaning, all but screaming as Gordo pushed her on with his taboo encouragements.

At one point she felt frightened, having never felt anything like this before. Only moments ago she had engaged in sexual intercourse for the first time, but her virginity was not truly gone until Gordo's intense digital penetration had her sweaty, chilled, goosebumped and turned completely inside out, begging him to stop, please stop, she couldn't take any more.

At last then he stopped and pulled his fingers out of her naked body. They lay back, side by side, looking up at the ceiling.

"Miranda," Gordo said quietly, taking her hand between them. "You are so incredible, and I love you."


	5. Chapter 5

Miranda closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath and find her way back home, back to who she really was. Everything that had just happened was in fact incredible, but as her breaths became more regular, an odd sadness crept into her soul. So incredible…and yet something was wrong… very wrong.

Several minutes passed. For the first time since Gordo had locked the door, they both heard the gentle jazz guitar music again, the CD set on replay, going round and round. The last time they had heard this music, they had been friends, secretly wanting each other, but holding back in respect for Lizzie. Now what were they? No longer friends, at least not in the same way. Miranda recalled the sexy laugh. She could not have that in her mind in regards to a friend. And a friend did not undress you and suck your nipples and then penetrate you, not in one, but two different ways.

Not a friend. And yet not a lover. Because if there was one thing Miranda knew, laying back with tears beginning to swell behind her eyes, it was that this could never happen again.

When Miranda had been quiet for an unusually long time, Gordo rolled over and looked at her. He saw a single tear slide down the side of her face, and as he watched it travel down her cheek, past her ear, and finally land as a little wet drop on the bright green pillowcase beneath her head, he suddenly understood with absolute conviction that this should have never happened, and worse yet, it could not be undone, and it was going to change everything.

Miranda opened her eyes and looked at him. Her face was mostly expressionless, though tinged with sadness. Gordo saw and knew, but first tried to lighten the gravity of the situation with a simple "Hey, Randa…"

Miranda looked away, at the same time grabbing and pulling the crumpled blankets to hide her nakedness. Taking her cue, Gordo got up, found all his clothes scattered around the edge of the bed, and put them back on.

Fully clothed again, he sat down on the bed, on the side Miranda had turned to, where she now lay hugging a pillow and crying streams of tears.

"Ran…" he said gently, trying to take her hand, but she pulled away. "Miranda… please…"

"Please?" she shot back, her voice hoarse. "Please _what_? Gordo, do you realize what we've done?"

He nodded heavily. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry isn't going to cut it!" Miranda sniffed, then suddenly, "Oh my God! We didn't even take precautions! What if I get pregnant?"

At this point Gordo felt a chill in his entire body. How stupid could he be? He had condoms in his room, of course, he should have gone to get one. But to do so would have reminded him of Lizzie, and Lizzie was the last thing he wanted to remember when his mind had been full of nothing but Miranda.

Now his mind raced, trying to find a way to ward off a worst-case scenario. He quickly latched onto something. "But wait! Last week, last Friday, I wanted you to come to the movies with me and Kevin, but you didn't want to because you were having really bad cramps, remember?"

"Was that last Friday?" Miranda asked. "Or the Friday before? Because if it was two Fridays ago…"

"No! It was last Friday! You said you were out of pads, and had to run down to the corner store to buy some. I remember, because you offered to buy me a Slurpee while you were down there. I'm pretty sure that was last Friday, right before the movies. Did you buy the pads? Did you save the receipt?"

"Yes!" Miranda exclaimed. "It's right there, on top of the dresser? Do you see it? What does it say?"

Gordo found the receipt and verified the date. Miranda had her period last Friday. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

"This is good," Gordo said. "This is very good."

"Good, I'm not going to get pregnant," Miranda agreed. "Other than that, this is pretty much a total disaster, don't you think? Everything's different now, Gordo. Everything that was good between us is gone now. Don't you see? Our friendship…it's been spoiled. And me…I've been…spoiled…"

She turned on her side, away from him, her bare shoulders shaking with sobs as she mourned their friendship, and her virginity. They had talked about this before, and now he recalled so strongly her commitment to her ideal of saving herself for "The Right Guy," and he mourned with her, and hated himself for taking that away from her.

Yet even as he mourned and wished he could somehow undo his mistake, he looked at her bare back slipping out from under the blanket and he wanted nothing more than to touch her and hold her again. He struggled not to rush to the bed and take her in his arms. In that moment he fully understood how their friendship had been spoiled. He was never again going to be able to look at her without wanting to consume her with his love, and of course he could not do that. Unless…

Just as he was imagining the only way she could be his again, from her sobs Miranda burst out, "It's gone…it's gone…"

"What's gone?" he asked carefully, slowly approaching the bed, dreading her answer.

She caught her breath and sobbed, "You know what's gone. You know I was saving it…saving myself…for the right one…"

Now he sat on the bed and turned her over, looking into her teary eyes. "Miranda," he said impulsively, "What if…what if _I'm_ the right one? Then would it be all right, wouldn't it? There would be no reason for all this sorrow you're feeling. It would be okay. No sorrow, only loving, night after night…"

"What are you talking about?" she sniffed.

"I'm saying…we should, you know, go out. We should be a couple. Don't you see? It makes so much sense! I love you, Ran, and I realize now I want nothing more than to be able to make love to you, night after night, and to be with you always. This way, our friendship isn't spoiled. We can still be friends, _and_ we can be lovers, and everything will be okay."

It made so much sense to him, he couldn't see how she could possibly object, and in anticipation of her agreement, he pulled her up into his arms.

"Gordo!" She struggled. "Let me go! What is wrong with you? Don't you understand?"

"Understand what?"

"Aren't you forgetting one little thing? Aren't you forgetting all about Lizzie?"

Gordo sat still, then released her. "Oh, yeah," he said. He had, in fact, barely thought of Lizzie at all this night.

" 'Oh, yeah'?" Miranda chided. "Is that all you can say? Does Lizzie mean nothing to you?"

"No! I mean…Yes! I mean, of course she means something to me. But it's not like it was between us anymore. You know that. You know that Lizzie and I decided to take this time apart so we could—"

"So you could cheat on her with your best friend? So we could _both_ betray her? This was wrong, Gordo, totally wrong."

"But I—"

"No. No, " Miranda said insistently. "I am not going to let you debate your way out of this one, Gordo. We were both wrong to let this happen, and you know it as well as I do. And I hope you also know that you and I together could not build something good and right on a foundation of something that's so terribly…terribly wrong."

For once, Gordo had no words. He knew she was right. But he could not help but look at her, his eyes imploring her, looking for some way.

"You cheated on Lizzie," Miranda said quietly, yet steadily. "I had sex with my best friend's boyfriend. And I had sex with…with…someone who is not the one, the one I've been waiting for. I'm sorry, Gordo. Don't look at me like that. You're not the one, you never can be…_now._ Maybe before tonight, but now…now you're just a guy who would cheat on his girlfriend, and I…I wanted better than that."

She sniffed and looked up at the ceiling. "Of course, now that I've had sex with my best friend's boyfriend, maybe I have no right to demand better than that. It's all been spoiled. I've been spoiled. And I don't like myself a whole lot right now. I feel so horrible, so dirty. I'd like to…to get back to who I really am, but I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that. But I do know one thing, I'm not going to be able to do that if you continue hanging around me. There would just be too much in the way of…of memories, and too much temptation."

"Then…then you _do_ still want me?" Gordo asked hopefully.

Miranda sighed. He was not getting it. "What I want," she said, taking a deep breath, "is for you to leave me alone for a while. For a very…very long while."

"Miranda!"

"No, I'm serious, Gordo. I need you to leave. Now. Please."

"I---"

"Please," she repeated, imploring him with her eyes.

He sighed. He reached out and took her hand. She let him, but it lay limp in his grasp, and cold. He squeezed that cold hand, looked straight into her eyes and said, "I love you, Miranda. I really do. And I know I messed up big-time, and I hope I can make it up to you some day. But for right now, what I want most is for you to be happy, to…to get back to liking yourself. And liking me. And if I have to go away for that to happen, then so be it. I'm going."

"Thank you," she whispered.

He sat for a minute more, holding her hand, squeezing it, wanting to do what she asked, but only because she asked it.

Why was it so impossible to leave her? He looked at her hair shining in the moonlight, and he wanted so badly to touch it, and even more so because he understood there was a very real possibility he might never be able to touch it again. Almost without realizing it, he stretched out his hand towards her hair—

"Gordo," was all she said.

He snapped out of it. "I'm going," he said. As he stood up he made a noise something like "Yaahk!" It was the cry of the martial artist just before he makes a powerful move. With that, Gordo lunged for the door, twisted the doorknob and was finally able to force himself out of the room.


End file.
